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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25126264">All the Fear and the Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/herooflegend/pseuds/herooflegend'>herooflegend</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, and some letters, its just a lot of stream of consciousness really</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25126264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/herooflegend/pseuds/herooflegend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of older writings about Sataj Elli/Arij Sento, Awoken eutech and later Warlock.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Awaken/Alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was recently organizing my old docs and realized I have a lot of random pieces about Arij, so I thought I'd share them.</p><p>Title from Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was emptiness. If she existed before, she existed as possibility. As a spark of hope hidden in the darkness. Once, there may have been the idea of a body that lay in waiting and a soul that held ideas just like hers, but they were not yet real. And then she was born, and the universe was free to begin.</p><p>She looked to her hands and saw that they were hers and she was awed. She existed as reverence, as uncut appreciation for each particle of life within self. The tailor of all that is broken and made whole whose mouth speaks unfettered creation. Name her SANAT and listen to her words.</p><p>First, there is a mandala. A simple thing, its rings adorned with light.</p><p>She takes her first steps across the surface and breaks them with her weight. SANAT. The beginning is the end is the beginning.</p><p>I am S A N A T, the insignificant outlier with imperfect symmetry.</p><p>Open the end. I am S A N A T A, the opening line of a myth that is not yet told. The end is not the end it is the start.</p><p>I am S A T A J, a bend and break that echoes quiet through the eons followed by a piercing silence. The middle child forgotten by the rest of matter.</p><p>I am Sataj, the patient watcher of reality.</p><p>This is how Sataj Elli awakens.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Specks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sataj Elli loves her own insignificance.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My name is Sataj Elli, and I am profoundly insignificant.</p><p>One day you will forget this name, though it is written in the stars. Maybe this will happen when you die or maybe someday before. One day, I shall forget it too.</p><p>My presence can’t leave entirely. The impacts I’ve had on time ripple like waves, outward and ever outward. My matter is forever encoded in the universe - tiny specks of my existence that have always been and never not. But I will be forgotten. The weight I hold through gravity will lessen every moment after my passing, until it is nearly nothing. My waves will become ripples, and my matter will be reforged as something else entirely. </p><p>Even now as I breathe and write, my presence is negligible to the universe. I am a tiny thing, the smallest touch of dust. Yet my complete destruction would surely topple everything, as would that of a carbon atom or of the greatest star. I have run the simulations. </p><p>Don’t think of it as a bad thing, then. My insignificance. I don’t. Think of it as a two-edged blessing. For whatever good one does, someone else does far worse. And though the memories of heroes and of common folk like me will fade with time, so too shall those of great atrocities, and we may one day live in a world that has never known despair.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A ghost meets its Guardian. She's a little weird, and a little brave, but that's okay.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arij Sento’s Ghost was an easy listener. Even before it found its chosen, it preferred the company of others. It spent its days floating from one camp to the next, gathering stories and rumours. Mostly, it listened from the shadows, at least at first. As time passed, it showed itself and made friends from the scattered peoples. It spoke little of its own, but it always had a comment or some friendly advice to share. It had found power in the simple act of small talk. In turn, it knew much.</p><p>Still, it was ever careful. The dark ages were not kind and it was a paranoid creature. Most humans couldn’t harm it, but it always watched its back. It stayed far away from any Risen and never stayed in any place for long. Sometimes, though, it would hide from a distance and listen to the Risen chatter. It thought about what its chosen would sound like. What their voice would be, what things they’d have to say.</p><p>When it finally found Arij, she was inches from a war zone. A small group of warlords battled for territory over a human settlement. It was slaughter. The ghost had snuck past all the fighting to get to her and bring her back. When she awoke, she didn’t say a word.</p><p>It explained the situation to her, and she got to her feet and ran. But not away from the battle, towards it. She grabbed the first weapon she saw, a battered sword and charged towards the fighting. In the end, she died protecting that settlement. The village was decimated, but some people got away. Her ghost had waited to resurrect her until the battle ended. The warlords would not hesitate against an enemy ghost.</p><p>When she awoke again, she spoke her first words: “Did you bring me back to die?”</p><p>It felt ashamed. It stared at her. It said nothing, until Arij finally spoke again, with a massive grin.</p><p>“This is not a bad thing.”</p><p>And once again, her Ghost was speechless.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This is a Weapon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Arij talks about learning to use her Light to heal.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I never wanted to fight. I don’t remember my past life personally, but I know who I am and so I say this with confidence. I never wanted to fight.</p><p>When I was first brought back, I carried a sword. I fought with fist and blade, with the power of my body. But mostly, I read. I often lived in settlements among humans and pretended to be mortal, like them. I think they were afraid of me, because I looked different. I couldn’t blame them and it meant I was left alone, so I let it be. In between my time in the settlements, I scavenged. I was on the hunt for stories and I spent alotta time wandering abandoned towns in perfect silence. When I was satisfied, I went right on back to the settlements. I found a home and read. </p><p>I learned a lot this way. I picked up quite a few languages, too. My ghost would go out on its own and eavesdrop. It got back and we’d swap tales and laugh. When the settlements were attacked, I’d fight sword and shield to defend them, but I rarely used my Light. Not to fight, at least.</p><p>I didn’t see it as a weapon, I suppose. After all, it brought me back to my third life. It was burning, destructive power, like a bomb about to blow. But somehow, using it to kill felt wrong to me. </p><p>One day, I explained this to my ghost and it shared with me a secret. The secret of control. From then on I learned to twist it, to rearrange the parts. I turned destruction to rebuilding, weapon to support. And that’s how I’ve been since, I think. A burning hearth, a healing hand. A shield. An end unto a beginning. A death that breathes new life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Unclean</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Arij, Guardian and Dredgen, writes a letter to a young Guardian who's struggling with the Darkness.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A note to those who have strayed and those whose eyes have recently opened.</p><p>Let me give you a lesson, clean and simple.</p><p>If you listen, they will tell you of light versus dark. They will tell you of how the dark came from the Traveler, for all that is good. How the Guardians were raised to fight the Darkness, all that is evil. They will point to the light in your hands and say: this is a weapon. And you will look at the darkness and say: this is my target. </p><p>Still, there are many words they will not say. They won’t tell you how the Eliksni are not dark at all. Just forsaken, just abandoned. Angry, like us. They won’t tell you all the horrors of the dark ages. How everyone knew the first part (this is a weapon) but not the second (this is my target). They won’t tell you that the Awoken, too are light, in a way. That they fight to protect the softer lives that live closer to the sun. </p><p>You will hear these things and stray. Walk with heavy steps to the other side. There they will tell you what the City hides. They will teach you of the enemy, which you will see is all. They will hand you poison and say: this is salvation. And you will look to the skies and say: this is my target. </p><p>I can’t tell you who is wrong and who is right; I do not know. But listen to me now and feel with me. Feel the weight of the weapon in your hands. Feel the heart that beats steady in your chest. Feel that light inside that threatens to tear you apart and the dark that you took on to fight it, and say: this is what I am. Not a weapon, not a tool. I am myself, blinding and dark, angry and laughing. I am a singularity, a uniqueness that can’t be replicated. I am a line between mortal and forever, the clashing point between flawed and perfect.</p><p>And understand: Nothing is clean. Nothing is simple. Don’t listen to those who say otherwise.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. At My Worst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An audio recording sent to Eris Morn. Set during Shadowkeep, after Arij spent a year in hiding, helping Eris with her work.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I have found in my many years that some weights never become easier to bear. Those losses will stay with us forever for better or for worse. Still, we persist, and with each day we become stronger than we were the day before. </p><p>These are simple truths, and surely known to more than just myself and you. But I find the thought of them to be a well-needed reminder, just as I find when I think about the ones we’ve lost.</p><p>You and I, and everyone else like us--all who have lived many lives. We also carry the weight of the selves who have come before us. Though we may not always remember them, our pasts haunt us in new ways every hour. Ha! And with each step forward into a new day, we leave some version of ourselves behind as we change and face another sunrise. I think on this, as well, as I remember those who’ve passed. And I hope with all my heart that all of us may live to be the light our past/passed selves needed.</p><p>I’m rambling. I know, I know. I tend to do this. I often feel the need to give some meaning to these empty spaces. Complex thoughts aside, my friend. Thank you for allowing me refuge here and for allowing me to aid you in your work to occupy my mind. I know you can’t accept right now, but my place is open to you, too, should you ever need it. I certainly won’t judge; you have already seen me at my worst. </p><p>At the very least, when all of this is over and we can rest at last, would you join me for dinner? You can pick the place...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Arij *might* have a bit of a crush. It happens.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A letter from Arij to a friend who lived most of his Guardian life in a simulation/alternate timeline (Who knows which! We don't!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lars,</p><p>I’ve been deliberating how to begin this letter for quite some time. Even now, I am not sure what to say, but I suppose I’ll start with the point.</p><p>What’s real can kill you. </p><p>Reality can shoot you, cut you, burn you. It can make you hurt, and it can make you cry. It can also make you laugh, or bring you genuine joy. What’s real can make you angry, it can touch you, it can calm you down. It can make you feel.</p><p>In your time before you left the Forest and joined us in this world, what you felt was real. When Pujari explored the places beyond death, what he felt was real. When we fight in the Nine’s Realm, however strange - what we feel is real. </p><p>We may have our doubts about these things. We feel tied to certain ways of being. We are made of atoms, we have mass and energy, we experience events in linear time, and we have a preference for the ways that those events occur. However comfortable, our way of being is not the way for all things. The Nine are not made of atoms. The Vex do not experience linear time. In our experiences with such different entities, we must learn to reconcile our realities with theirs. Only then can we understand what’s real.</p><p>What I mean to say is this: Whether it was a simulation or alternate timeline, everything you experienced prior to two years ago was real, just as real as we are now. There is no simple way to confirm this, but you must understand that you do not need to.</p><p>Dr. Sundaresh led a group of scientists into the Vex Network. They were fragmented. Over a hundred groups searching information pathways - yes, simulations. In a physical sense, nothing they experience there is real, and yet to them it is. They feel. And to the Vex it is more real than any flesh and bone. </p><p>You must remember not look upon yourself as if you are a god. You are not omnipotent. Reality is about perspective, and you see little beyond your own. So look from that perspective, my friend. Do you feel? Do your wounds cause you pain? Do you laugh at my jokes, at least from time to time? You are a Hunter - what do you think when you look up at the stars? Do you see a universe to explore? Does it make you happy? Curious? Overwhelmed, maybe? </p><p>When you look at the sky, what you feel is real, whether it is a “simulation” or not. </p><p>You have a thorn cut in your left hand, and it will never heal. Acknowledge it, and care for it. Remember how your life before affected you. Recall how your decisions then affect your decisions now. Think about the people you met, and remember them.</p><p>From here on Io, I am real, and I will remember you.</p><p>Write back, if you want. I would love to hear your thoughts. This is a favorite topic of mine to deliberate. I would be honored to take that journey with you.</p><p>~ Arij Sento</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to anyone who reads this &lt;3 It is all very ramble-y.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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